Necklace
by Moonlight Bambino
Summary: Their only connection is through a necklace. Time had passed by and Ryoma only recognize Fuji through his name and nothing else. When Ryoma met Fuji in Japan, would he believe that the tensai Fuji Syusuke is indeed the Fuji he knew from the past? Can the old friendship rekindle and developed into something more? Dedicated to Ageha Yume
1. Chapter 1

**My first story! Please tell me what you think about it! Thanks much! xoxo**

 **-Necklace-**

 _"Here," Fuji said as he fixed the hook of the necklace around Ryoma's neck. "See? We have a matching necklace. That way no matter how far we are, we're always connected by this necklace."_

 _"But," Ryoma said. "What if I lost it? How are we connected then?" Using his fingers, he played with the heart shape with the words Fuji Syusuke carved on it. He smiled when he saw Fuji's necklace; he liked the fact that Fuji have his name carved on his necklace. It made him feel special._

 _"You won't." He said knowingly. "I know you won't. And even if you do lose it, I would find you no matter what..."_

 _"Yeah? Can you though? The world is sooooooo big." Ryoma spread his arms to show his point._

 _Fuji laughed. "Yes, I can."_

Ryoma wake up, back wetted with sweat. The same dream over and over again. How long has it been since this dream starts to play in his mind? Fuji Syusuke... Ryoma likes the way how the words flew out of his mouth and that it sounded so smooth.

Despite the fact that he memorized his name, Ryoma can't remember that person's face. First, he have bad memories and second, he haven't see that person for a long time. Also, he met this 'Fuji' in his childhood, so memories are fuzzy.

Stretching his arms, Ryoma stand up and walked to the bathroom. With everything done, he dressed up and get his tennis rackets and balls before walking out of the house.

He sat on the bench, waiting for his blonde friend.

"Damn that Kevin, already late for 10 minutes. And he said I'm th one who's late all the time." He tapped his foot not patiently and stared at his watch, silently keeping tracking how long Kevin is late.

"Hey buddy, sorry I'm late!" Kevin ran to him and panted. "Damn car traffic."

"Whatever, hurry up so we can play tennis." Ryoma take out his red racket and walked to the court.

"Give me a break, I just get here!" Kevin said but still take out his racket too.

The game began...

Ryoma chugged down the can of soda until it's empty before throwing it at the trash can.

"Hey Kev, this is our last match. I'm leaving to Japan tomorrow."

"Yeah I know, keep in contact, 'kay?" Kevin looked at Ryoma with uncertainty, a part of him not sure if Ryoma would go that far for him.

"Sure, I guess." Kevin sighed in relief.

"Guess this is goodbye, huh?" After that, no one spoke.

The next day, the plane destined to fly to Japan from America take off.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for the reviews, favorites and follows. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

 **-Necklace-**

Ryoma walked out the bathroom door connected to this bedroom with a towel loosely hung from his hips. Water dripped down his chest as he dried his hair with a towel. Footsteps padded across the room, leaving trails of warm water. He untied the knot on the towel and the cloth fell on the floor in a lump. Ryoma take out his clothings from the drawer and dressed up.

Today will be the first time since forever since Ryoma last been to Japan. The memories all washed up at once when Ryoma came inside the old temple that's been around more than a decade, around the time he's born. Even though he himself had never been in this temple, it's still felt like he's at home in an eastern place compared to his house in America. All his likes came from Japan, which range from ponta to eastern food, well except hamburgers, that he can tolerate from western foods.

Ryoma never had a reason why he favored Japan more than America. It's not like America is bad, in fact, it isn't. There's a whole bunch of reasons why America is better than Japan, but to Ryoma, he felt more connected to Japan even though he never been here before. It's probably because his whole family is Japanese, and so Japan came to be more natural to him.

But the one problem about Japan is the language. Ryoma had problems speaking and pronouncing Japanese. Having to speak English all his life, the sudden transition from English to Japanese is difficult to get adjust to. Ryoma can understand simple words like tadaima, okaeri, honorifics, etc, but if someone jumped out and told him a japanese pun, Ryoma will just sat there dumbfounded with a 'what-did-you-just-say' face. That's the main reason why he isn't comfortable being in a Japanese school and he's especially not looking forward to Japanese class.

Ryoma looked in the mirror to make sure nothing's out of the place and walked downstairs. He slung his rackets' bag over his shoulders and walked out the house. Ryoma made sure that he carried his iphone with him so that way, if he do get lost, his phone would guide him back. In situations like this, Ryoma's thankful for his mom, Rinko, who urged Ryoma to have a smartphone since smartphones have many cool widgets that's extremely helpful like the map for example.

Glancing at the screen, Ryoma walked as the phone instructed toward a tennis court. When he arrived, Ryoma looked east and west, making sure the court's free and there's not one to bother him. However, the bad news is that there's no opponent for him to play with, so Ryoma can only practice against a wall.

Ryoma pulled out a tennis ball from his pocket and bounced it multiple times with the palm of his hand before swinging his racket with an exact angle and force. The ball touched the exact area throughout the whole practice and very soon, Ryoma created a rhythm with the ball.

Smack.

Bounce.

Smack.

Bounce.

This pattern had been going on for the past 30 minutes or so, and Ryoma doesn't seem tire yet. He was interrupted when a cool surface touched the back of his knees, pushing him forward, causing Ryoma to stumble and lost his balance. Prepared with a glare, Ryoma turned his head around and saw a red-haired guy chewing a green gum with a loud pop.

"Hey, nice form you have. Wanna play a game with me?" The redhead asked and Ryoma noticed his racket bag.

He smirked and welcomed the challenge. "Sure, just don't cry later when you lose," Ryoma taunted.

"Hoh, we'll see about that. Watch me make you eat your words." The redhead laughed and walked toward an open court with Ryoma in tow.

"Rough or smooth?"

"Smooth."

Ryoma twisted the racket, letting it turned around in circles at the tip on the ground. "Hmm, too bad, it's rough."

"Beginner's luck, heh?" The redhead said, knowing it would make Ryoma more agitated.

"I'll show you a _beginner's_ luck." And the game began.

Both parties are persistent throughout the game, nonstop. Their will burned out when tiny rain droplets came down from the sky and soon, that drizzle turned into a downpour. The two teens ran under a roof, safely avoided the rain.

"Hey," the stranger called out. "What's your name?"

Ryoma frowned. Isn't it common courtesy to introduce yourself before asking for someone's name? "What's your name?"

"No respect to seniors." He shake his head with a sigh but answered his question nonetheless, "Marui Bunta."

"Echizen Ryoma." After that, silence formed between the two. Ryoma spoke up suddenly, "And I would have won if the game wasn't interrupted."

"Oh yeah?" Marui retorted. "We'll see about that." They exchanged their phone numbers and awaits for the day when they can have their rematch and finally settle things.

The sky cleared up at this moment and both part ways, not looking back.


End file.
